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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661016">Work It To the Bone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonzander/pseuds/demonzander'>demonzander</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Bondage, Brief Mentions of Racial Inequality, Claude Is Loud, Claude probably does too actually, Claude tries, Confused Lorenz, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Flower Language Kind Of, Foot Job For Literally Like 0.2 Seconds, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Gratuitous and Innapropriate Use of A Safeword, Hurt Claude von Riegan, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Intercrural Sex, It's A Stupid Safeword, Kink Negotiation, Lorenz Is Pushy, Lorenz cares damn it, Lorenz has his pride, Lorenz hopes, Lorenz is a mess, M/M, Massage, Maybe BDSM slightly if you squint and hope, Mentions of Corporol Punishment On a Child, Mentions of Gender Inequality, Mentions of War, Mild Painplay, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Perhaps the BDSM undertone is not as slight as I had thought, Post-Time Skip, Praise Kink, Run-On Sentences, Safe Sane and Consensual, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Somnnophilia for 0.2 Seconds, The Unhealthy Coping Seems To Be a Family Issue, These Guys Are Bad at Talking, Tied-Up Claude, Top Lorenz, Touch-Starved, Touching, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Very brief mentions of war wounds, Violence Against Demonic Beasts, bottom Claude, brief mentions of death, self-sabotage, these tags are a mess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:03:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonzander/pseuds/demonzander</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For several weeks, Duke von Riegan and Count Gloucester have been meeting to discuss tactics and make plans during the war.</p><p>One night it turns into something else and both men begin to realize how badly they want to bridge the void between them--except they also quickly realize that neither knows how to get the messages across to the other. Miscommunication and hurt feelings are imminent.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is probably the most horribly written trash I have ever churned out in the name of porn and I apologize for doing no justice to this ship (especially at the end I'm sorry). I wasn't going to leave it ending like this but I cannot think how to go any further with it...</p><p>I feel like the characters are out of character in this but I couldn't place my finger on exactly how? I also have exactly zero idea when this is precisely taking place in the timeline so. Anyway, I'm very grateful for any feedback.</p><p>As for the war and war wounds tag, I believe there is perhaps two sentences that mention it and nothing in detail. They're very glossed over and very much not focused on.</p><p>I also may have been listening to "Right Here" by Staind on repeat...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Discussing tactics had become a nice pastime for them over the last few weeks, Lorenz thought as he pulled the flap of Claude’s tent open. Since their heartfelt discussion after reuniting, it was almost shocking when he could no longer stir up the old animosity they had for each other during their school time. <em>Perhaps not quite,</em> a quiet voice that sounded like Claude himself reminded him helpfully, <em>you seemed to be shouldering the burden of it in that regard.</em></p><p>He found his face unintentionally contorting in a small sneer before schooling his expression. It would not do at all to let emotions control him. He was a noble of high standing, after all, and that was an unbecoming way to act. Basest emotions resulted in basest actions, none of which would reflect kindly upon his house. “Your Majesty—“</p><p>Claude didn’t respond, only turned his head the slightest to look at him and smiled warmly. It was amazing how his face had the ability to mimic the radiance of the sun. “Ah, Lorenz, you finished early? I hadn’t been expecting you so soon or else I would have put on some tea. What is that floral one you like? I’m sure I have some somewhere here—“</p><p>Lorenz held up a hand to halt him from getting up where the other man was sitting among his floor pillows. It was an aspect of Almyra he did not understand. Was it truly comfortable to sit like that upon the ground? He’d watched Claude sprawl out in a most unbecoming way a few times, biting his tongue each time. It was a difference of customs that he had neither the knowledge nor standing to comment upon.</p><p>Tonight, though, Claude moved stiffly as he gestured for Lorenz to sit with him among the brightly colored pillows.</p><p>“What is wrong with your arm? Were you injured today?” The note of concern, <em>true concern</em>, in his voice almost startled him. If Claude, their leader, were injured, why, he was one of their farthest attacking units. He trained the sniper battalion and led the wyverns, both of which were a tactical advantage against mages and foot soldiers as well as cavalry. He was indispensable.</p><p>Claude turned his head slightly away and rubbed his right shoulder absentmindedly. He smiled a sardonically and muttered under his breath, “Of <em>course</em> you would notice.”</p><p>“ ‘Of course’—what does that mean, pray tell? Do you think me unobservant?” Lorenz was frowning now. “If so, please instruct me on such matters.” He stared hard, unsure what else to say. The words were forming without his input now, without his forethought or permission. “Do you think me uncaring? Or simply that you matter so little as to be insignificant? Tell me which and I will gladly correct it.”</p><p>“Lorenz—“ Claude’s voice was small but steady and he sighed. “You are neither of those things. I don’t want to hear you debase yourself like that again.” In the flash of an eye, Claude was back to himself and smiled. “It’s just a pulled muscle! This isn’t going to stop me. So, tell me, what did you think about the plan I had delivered to your tent the other day? The one concerning the double envelopment—“</p><p>“Have you seen the healers?”</p><p>“Of course I have! I stopped by their tent to check on them just yesterday. Marianne looked pretty exhausted but they’re doing great work with what little we have, I was thinking—“</p><p>“Do you ever <em>stop</em>?”</p><p>Claude looked up at him (he was being horridly rude, not only not immediately accepting the seat offered to him in friendship but snapping at the man instead), green eyes a fraction wider than normal the only thing betraying his shock as the candlelight cast his face into half-relief. He looked as if he had been slapped or—worse—walked in on his wyvern and its mate. A small piece of Lorenz—however miniscule but present—sent his stomach doing flips at the look and he sighed, pulling himself together and stamping the feeling down. He begged his voice to cast concern and authority he did not feel nor possess and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was an old feeling from his school days and, thus, easy to ignore. “Please. Forgive me. That was. So very unbecoming of me. Claude. <em>Your Highness</em>. Have you seen the healers for yourself? <em>About your shoulder?</em> It’s your drawing arm, is it not?”</p><p>Concern clouded Claude’s face, which only made Lorenz feel worse and more frustrated. “Lorenz—do <em>you</em> need to see the healers? Did you fall off your horse? You remember that time Sylvain was showing off for Ingrid and he fell off that horse and hit his head? You’re talking sorta like that—“</p><p>“I am doing nothing of the sort,” Lorenz hissed, again refusing to be budged by the other man’s incessant blathering. “Fine. I will handle this my<em>self</em>.”</p><p>The lopsided, <em>infuriating</em> smile had begun to form on the darker man’s face before it evaporated and he began looking suspicious, leaning back unconsciously but Lorenz couldn’t tell if he was serious of feigning. “Uh—sure, okay—here, or?—I’m not sure what you mean, but any way I can help, I guess—“</p><p>He only stopped himself from stomping by sheer force of will as he flung the tent flap shut in frustration. It was amazing that after all the time that had passed, Claude still knew just how to push his buttons. He didn’t realize how heavily he was frowning (probably his face was contorted in a scowl but he was hoping to be optimistic about the whole thing) until a small group of young squires dispersed like a group of discovered rats in candlelight when he came stalking toward them to get to the fire. His knees cracked when he crouched by the communal fire to fetch one of the wooden buckets of hot water a frail looking maid was filling to ration out. She shot him a smile that didn’t extend to her eyes, making her seem like an owl in the dark. He took the proffer rags but refused the small soap ration with a wave of his hand and a bow before huffing back off into the night.</p><p>The camp was small, cramped, and had been divided into groups several miles apart to mitigate midnight ambushes and possible causalities. It was a shock after serving in the academy where there had always been his bed waiting, the gardens he could wander through, always enough food, no graves to be dug.</p><p>Lorenz sighed when he pushed the tent flap aside, the bucket heavy in his hands and his heart heavy in his chest.</p><p>Claude looked over and his tongue flicked out quickly to wet his lips, a tell Lorenz had seen but a handful of times. It usually meant that Claude’s schemes had failed him, his backup plan fell through, and his backup backup plan bore no fruit. He was in territory unforeseen or predicable. “I didn’t mean—“He laughed bitterly when the water sloshed a bit, spilling on the edge of his sitting rug. Lorenz wasn’t sure if the bitterness there was because they were trying so hard to meet in the middle and missing so badly tonight or because Lorenz just potentially ruined a very expensive rug. “I meant no offense in regards to…anything, I suppose. Is that broad enough? Everything? I’m not sure what exactly I’ve done but if you tell me, I can fix it.”</p><p>“So you say, and yet, I take great offence, Claude,” Lorenz said as he kneeled beside his companion, his leader, and his ally—his <em>friend</em>. He heard himself as if he were in a cave, cold and echoing, brittle in a way he had never felt before. He felt hot from the tips of his ears, his cheekbones flush, to his toes and he couldn’t sort if it was anger that was making his pulse thunder or the look on Claude’s face. The way it crumpled, like a rose crushed in his hand, made bile rise in his throat and his body throb. “Don’t look as that, whatever it is. I am offended you do not look at yourself as others see you. I hold you in the greatest esteem and you care nothing for yourself or your wounds beyond your need as a means to an end.”</p><p>Claude looked as if he had again been slapped when Lorenz reached out and touched his cheek with his gloved hand, a foal being approached for the first time. A foal? No, a fawn for sure. <em>‘Tis befitting.</em></p><p> Viciously, he reigned his hand back in to bite the fingers of his glove to shed it, desperate to be rid of it and once more finding his thumb enjoying the rough slide of the line of dark facial hair. He dragged it along and against the grain, enjoying the scrape, edging it with his thumbnail before removing his hand just as Claude began to lean into it. His thumb burned with the remembrance of the short, surprisingly soft, hair resting over that jaw line and if he let himself think about it, he would surely run from the tent. So he acted on instinct, amazed it had not been bred out of him. His actions tonight were the exact opposite of how a proper noble would behave but, most shocking of all, shame was nowhere to be found, only a mildly curious streak. Investigative? Scientific? He wasn’t sure how to word it except that it was raw and powerful. “Remove your cape and tunics.”</p><p>Claude did so wordlessly but with a certain glint in his eye, sensing the feeling in the air as if he might break Lorenz or drive him again to leave the tent if he spoke. He did not miss Lorenz’s deep frown when he saw the leather brace strapped to his drawing arm but ignored it to quietly fold his clothes before placing them out of the way. When he was unbuckling the straps to remove the brace, the last lingering physical reminder that he had been loath to don anyway but Hilda had absolutely insisted, Lorenz stiffened further instead of relaxing as Claude sat naked from the waist up. “How do you want me, Your Grace?”</p><p>The sarcastic whisper made the heir of Gloucester want to grab that shoulder and shake. “Face the wall.”</p><p>“As you wish,” Claude chuckled, carefully turning to face the wall of the tent, legs folded beneath him, feeling as if he was about to receive corporal punishment. He hissed at the first press of the hot cloth to his sore muscles and promptly bit his tongue. Lorenz took the cloth away with the quietest of “apologies” before he placed it slowly over the muscles, at a glacial pace that allowed him to get used to the near blistering, borderline boiling wet heat flowing off the cloth. It was colder on the edges where it had had a chance to cool, leaving it feeling icy before another cloth was slowly placed over it, flashing heat before slowly cooling again, following the same cycle always. It was dependable and Claude had become lost in it, losing his sense of time, and snapped his eyes open when he realized the he had started to slump to the side and he was unsure if it was the weight of the wet clothes or that his muscles had started to relax.</p><p>He downright jumped when Lorenz touched his other shoulder, his shoulder bumping the man’s chest. When did he get so close?</p><p>“Sorry,” Lorenz said lowly and flatly, not really sounding very sorry at all. He sounded decidedly and frustratingly even and controlled. “Can you lay, perhaps, say, on your front?”</p><p>The lack of comment made Lorenz lord over his victory for the time it took Claude to stretch out flat, arms by his side, with a quiet groan. He was holding himself as stiff as a board, small puffs of inhales and Lorenz recognized it as pain. He sighed and muttered to himself, “How did it come to this?”</p><p>“I’ve heard the screams from the healer’s tent, Lorenz,” Claude bit through grit teeth, his words edged like a sword in a way that Lorenz had not heard in quite some time, “and I still possess all my limbs. Their time and energy is not endless and it’s better spent somewhere else.”</p><p>Logically, Lorenz knew what the words were trying to convey but it did nothing to ease the tight feeling in his chest. He forced himself to smile through it. “Then I suppose you will have to make do with me. Unfortunately, my aptitude for faith magic was next to naught, if you recall. That being said, I do perhaps have some…ideas, if you will be so kind as to bear with me.”</p><p>Claude laughed and it was wine and honey over Lorenz’s frayed nerves, followed by a dazzling smile aimed as best he could over his good shoulder. “Consider me all in.”</p><p>Lorenz bowed his head, not feeling as confident in himself as Claude evidently did. It was true that his ability in healing was abysmal and non-existent. He had tried, had devoted himself to it, going to Manuela when he saw how counted on Marianne and the other healers were and hoping to be able to ease some burdens for his classmates. Unfortunately, it had not been a budding talent of his and despite his want and trying, materialization of results had never happened. It seemed he would always be gifted in the offensive line only, between his black magic and his lance, set to protect the white magic users rather than become one. No matter, as long as it was helpful.</p><p>Drawing another cloth from the bucket, he draped it over the tip of Claude’s shoulder blade. The man beneath him jumped with a wince but otherwise stayed silent, eyes slightly crinkled at the corners in what could have been mistaken for a laugh but did not match the frown on his face. Staring intently in what would otherwise be a completely rude and unacceptable manner (which was still rude and unacceptable even if no one was watching, especially Claude, he reminded himself), he took one of the rags and wrung out the hot water on the tender spot, a small waterfall, watching it drip down into the divot of Claude’s spine and cut a river between the notches of his ribs as they expanded and shrank quickly and shallowly again with the rapid, short breaths coming through his nose. The dark trail left wetly over Claude’s skin was fascinating, like a land become dark and fertile with the flooding of a river.</p><p>His fingers spidered over the skin, fascinated by the contrast between them, watching in a completely repulsive, voyeuristic way (<em>ah, that was the word, then</em>) as his thumb dug lightly over the tip of Claude’s scapula, caressing softly after the testing. He pushed harder in between the thin bone and the muscle when it flexed, Claude’s other hand fisting and shooting up to cover his mouth, to muffle the groan as his torso bowed slightly and elongated.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Lorenz, warn a guy,” he breathed, eyes screwed shut once more. “Fuck, that hurt—“</p><p>It was like a stab to the heart and a direct hit of Blizzard at the same time. “I—I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me—“</p><p>“I just said warn me. I didn’t say stop.” He sounded too incredibly put together, small beads of sweat breaking out along his brow but Lorenz couldn’t tell the source except that it was <em>him </em>causing it, either with the cloths or his touch. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to be true as he stared down at the furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, the shallow breathing through Claude’s mouth…</p><p>“I…yes,” Lorenz said clinically, as if he was not falling apart in a way he had never experienced, hot and cold flashes going through him, and his face was absolutely flaming hot enough to immolate him. This was not where he had imagined the night going, not in any sort of inkling had anything of the sort crossed his mind in his life as to picture this is any capacity but it left him strangely invested. He felt like he was drowning, drifting, but he wasn’t sure if it was to fight toward this or against it.</p><p>His hands decided for him at Claude’s questioning glance, both thumbs gently pressing each side of his shoulder blade, not moving, just holding. It was warm and solid and wet from the hot cloths and the scars were puckered and varied. The skin bunched when he pushed his thumbs to meet in the middle of the bone, the muscle jumping under his fingers as Claude flexed—squirmed. It was definitely a squirm but Lorenz couldn’t tell if it was to get closer or farther away and he burned to find out which. Claude felt as though he were on fire as well, hot skin on hot skin and he edged the area with his fingertips, Claude arching at the increased area of pressure and Lorenz watched his fist spasm, gauging for painful areas to focus on by the level of white-knuckling. A harder press earned him a gasp and a wobble of Claude’s eyebrows and he definitely, definitely was a voyeur but he was also definitely burning so hot his skin was shrinking and his scalp prickled. This was most certainly a bad idea and he should really stop.</p><p><em>Are you sure?</em> Little brain-Claude piped up. <em>I don’t think you really want to stop, so maybe just don’t? Better to ask forgiveness than permission. I’m winking, you can’t see it, but I’m completely winking at you right now</em>--</p><p>If he could punch his own thoughts, he certainly would. The voice sounded <em>exactly</em> how Claude had sounded in the academy, right down to his inflection. It was amazing and Lorenz raged against himself when he wondered how long that voice had really been there with him. It couldn't be all these years, could it? He would have certainly noticed before now, right? Damn him!</p><p>He didn’t stop (in fact he pressed harder to make the real Claude react and hoped to distract himself from that stupid, stupid goading voice) and he learned things he was unsure he would ever be able to forget. His fingers fit exactly in the spaces between Claude’s ribs, as if his hands had been tailor made for it, for one thing. The contrast in their skin was intoxicating to watch, as was the way Claude moved when he flexed his uninjured shoulder when he bit his fist and opened to Lorenz, back bowed forward to expose more, his body honest in a way Claude had almost never been with his words. He was slightly more muscular on his right side, but that was honestly to be expected with his bow and axe handling, but he responded in much the same way when Lorenz switched to his left side after the right had been thoroughly worked.</p><p>He had a fine trail of thin dark hairs that just crossed his shoulders and trickled down his spine like a creek that dried up halfway and Lorenz ran his hands over all of it, whether it looked as if it hurt or not. The more he touched, the hotter he burned and the higher the red flush to Claude’s cheeks became before it spread down his neck and under the spattering of hair and Lorenz followed it, up the nape of his neck and to the skin beneath Claude’s ear. The pulse there was racing like a hare's in a trap, strong and regular and hurtling, a reminder that he was still here, whole, and he followed it with his thumb to just under the lobe where that tantalizing earring lay. It was there he pressed and Claude moaned. Moaned. <em>Wantonly</em>. Around that fist that Lorenz wanted to rip away. While his eyelids <em>fluttered</em>.</p><p>“I think,” Claude finally croaked, looking semi-conscious with half-lidded eyes and eyes nearly black, back almost irritated looking for how much Lorenz had been rubbing. He half wanted to apologize and half wanted to scratch it, to really mark it up, make Claude hurt like his hands were going to tomorrow and he had no idea where these dual feelings were coming from except they left him dizzy. “I think you…missed…m’arm. Better fix…that.”</p><p>Claude bent his right arm at the elbow and waved it almost bonelessly, wrist flopping.</p><p>“You cannot be serious,” Lorenz murmured, legs cramping from kneeling, hands exhausted.</p><p>Already rolling over, Claude flashed him a bright, drunk smile from where he had flopped on his back. He let his arm fall onto Lorenz’s bent knee, back of his hand resting there; taunting him with its long, calloused fingers and Lorenz could feel something inside him pulling tauter. </p><p>Sure that he would need to visit the healer himself tomorrow, Lorenz began at the man’s palm, feeling the calluses from the bowstring and working the pain and tension away. He couldn’t stop his fingers reaching, spreading to touch as much skin as possible, supple skin stretched over those muscles, hidden beneath the sleeves, the gloves, and those damned arms that fought for everyone equally. The ones attached to the man with a dream Lorenz once thought impossible, an all-encompassing dream for everyone to be treated equally and willing to die for it. With that thought, he dug a fingernail into the line between Claude’s bicep and tricep muscle just to punish him a little and Claude turned and looked at him, eyebrows knotted up in foggy question as his brain ran to catch up and something inside Lorenz broke at the look and the taut thing inside him snapped and the heat rushed out like a meteor spell hitting.</p><p>“You cannot possibly die. I cannot do this without you, you uncaring, unspeakable, boorish—“</p><p>“Does it bother you that much?” Claude said, cutting through the entire evening with his soft smile as if seeing Lorenz across the garden at the academy for the first time on a foggy morning at dawn. <em>Goddess damn him!</em></p><p>It left Lorenz sputtering. “Why would it not—are you <em>ignorant</em>—“</p><p>“Then I won’t.”</p><p>“You won’t <em>what</em>, you foolish man?”</p><p>“Then I won’t die.”</p><p>The hole in his chest was growing larger by the minute and he cursed himself for starting this, hair hanging and brushing Claude’s chest as he leaned over him to make sense of the quiet words. “What are you <em>saying</em>! It’s not one of your damnable wyverns that you can command—“</p><p>Claude reached up and guided his head the rest of the way down before he could protest or pull back and kissed him fully on the lips, softly, and tentatively and in a manner that Lorenz had no patience for. He levered his tongue into Claude’s mouth, exploring and taking, and Claude simply opened and let him, eventually gentling the brutal kiss when Lorenz seemed to run out of steam before breaking off to pant. “Lorenz, please, touch me—“</p><p>“What do you believe I have been <em>doing all night</em>—“</p><p>“No, not—“ The grasp around his wrist was firm as it was guided gently down yet more of Claude’s skin, abdomen jumping, before being pushed down his breeches. The heat or the hardness there was almost as hot as he had been all night, Lorenz thought, hand trapped and unable to move before Claude undid the laces, head thrown back. Lorenz grasped him, hard, and listened to the whimper of the esteemed Claude von Riegen. “If—if you get on my other side—I can—<em>ah! </em>Yes, there—have you thought about this? Tell me--”</p><p>“Is that an order?” Lorenz listened to the ragged breathing beneath him as he continued to chew on the hard, dark bud beneath him. Having his hands on Claude, his hands <em>really</em> on Claude, seemed to be taking some of the pressure out of his chest and he felt slightly better, slightly less like either vomiting or exploding or scratching his skin off to get at some internal itch. He bit harder when Claude buried his hands in his hair, the hands fisting his purple strands at the pain but bucking his hips as he throbbed between Lorenz’s fingers all the same, a small amount of wetness dribbling on his fingers.</p><p>Had he thought about this before? Absolutely not. Would he later? Oh, yes. Having Claude under him made him feel drunk, <em>so drunk</em> and he wanted everything improper. He wanted to tie Claude’s wrists, listen to him pant, leave marks with his mouth until his tongue was as sand and Claude sobbed and begged to let him spend, wanted to get his hands under the other man’s clothes at the war table—</p><p>Who was this person he had become in the last hour? Had he always been there, slumbering and waiting? What was <em>wrong</em> with him?</p><p>A thigh wormed its way between his legs and Lorenz no longer cared if this was an acceptable activity to perform with one’s commanding office and ruling leader as he rubbed himself on it with no finesse whatsoever. He only realized that the hot waves he had been feeling all night were a pulsating, all-consuming edge at the maw of the urge to wash over Claude, devour him, never let him depart back out of the very tent they were in. He wanted to swallow every noise, lash his tongue over every scar, caress every mole and freckle on the skin before him until there were tears at the edges of the other man's eyes. Thinking about it, those dark lashes being damp from <em>his</em> doing, his body stiffened and he spent in his pants, against Claude’s leg, panting through the orgasm onto the other man’s nipple while he was drowned with arms wide open with the smell of sandalwood and spice and wanted to immediately do it again.</p><p>Claude made a frustrated noise at his slack hand and growled, wrestling his pants down around his thighs around Lorenz through brute force. He once again guided Lorenz’s hand, this time further back while he stroked himself with his right hand with pained grunts. Despite being sore himself, and tired, and feeling disgusted with the mess sticking to him, he found the power to slap Claude’s hand away. “I’ll not have you undo everything I just worked for, you impatient cur.”</p><p>He ran his hand up the inside of Claude’s thigh until it could go no higher and turned his hand to take the soft mounds in his hand while the other played around the tip of the man. He pressed a finger to the seam between the two globes and Claude stiffened, his legs twitching up ineffectually.</p><p>“Lorenz, that’s good, you’re so good—“ Claude gasped, bucking forward and screwing his face up in a mix between blissed concentration and desperate frustration as his arms fell limp at his sides. “Don’t stop, please—Goddess, don’t—“</p><p>“Quiet,” the purple-haired man found himself hissing and he felt his adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to swallow around the desert that had taken residence in his mouth when Claude started begging. He watched the man gulp air and try to compose himself before Lorenz tugged at his testicles and he yelped.</p><p>Lorenz tilted his head and hummed. “By Goddess, you’re sensitive, and you’re <em>loud</em>. However, if you absolutely cannot refrain then I must insist you use this.”</p><p>Claude blinked at the pillow stuffed in his face before he clutched it to his face, biting it and seething spittle around the fabric when Lorenz just pushed his tongue into his leaking slit, <em>hard</em>, and he instinctively bowed forward, the pain in his shoulder flaring but drowned by the roaring in his ears. He would have maybe mentioned that he had been on edge for quite some time already except for the pillow in his mouth. Goddess, he <em>ached</em> for it, ached like never before in his life, shaking when Lorenz just suckled at the tip, shaking with the effort to not thrust up into his face after being <em>touched</em> and was that not pathetic? He had never felt as fuzzy and dizzy as this, had he? He couldn't control anything anymore, not his legs from shaking, not his toes from curling, not his back arching, not anything at all and he had never, ever needed like this before in his life. Not for food, nor water, nor even air and if it kept up then he would surely die but it was absolutely unthinkable that it should stop.</p><p>He felt himself throb again when Lorenz shoved his tongue into the slit and nearly screamed into the pillow when Lorenz scooped up the drop with—was it his thumb? Didn’t matter, it was a finger—and made an interested noise. “Tea of The Saints.”</p><p>Claude was positive he heard him wrong and was getting ready to scream, to throw the pillow, to—would he kick him? No, he couldn’t kick him, for Seiros’ sake, but it wasn’t for lack of wanting to.</p><p>Then Lorenz took him fully in his mouth and Claude yelled, the noise cutting off halfway into what would be and, actually, still was, an embarrassing moan he actually couldn’t care too much about behind the pillow but most of the camp must have heard anyway. The wet heat and the moist, strong rub of the tongue on the underside of the head made him pull the pillow from his face and gasp because there was not enough air, crushing the pillow to his chest just to have something to hang on to when his legs began to shake again. He wanted to get away because it was almost too much, all of it too much, but he just needed a bit more and he could never, ever make a joke about Lorenz liking to hear himself talk ever again because that damn tongue was back, probing, almost searching, pressing as deep as it could go to—what, to taste?</p><p>Claude was moaning again, he could hear himself, loudly keening as he shook and spasmed and every muscle seemed to clench, head thrown back and he knew he must absolutely look ridiculous as he white-knuckled the pillow through the spurts into that tight heat and he didn't stop quaking in small aftershocks until Lorenz crawled over and draped a blanket over him, quieting him like one of his horses.  </p><p>“Huh,” Claude said quietly, clearing his throat when his voice did not at all sound like his own. It was hoarse and breathy and his mouth was too dry to want to form words. “First off, I really like your ideas. Secondly, I don’t know what this was or where it came from but do you want to talk about it? I would like to sleep but since it’s you, Lorenz, I think I can manage to stay awake for a bit.”</p><p>“Not at the moment, no,” Lorenz said as he did his best to mop up the mess on his breeches with the bucket full of rapidly cooling water. “I wish to return to my tent and partake of whatever sleep I can get. I do not wish to give anyone any more fodder for gossip by being seen leaving your tent in the morning.”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure everyone heard me moaning your name, Lorenz.”</p><p>Lorenz gaped at that, watching the redness tint Claude’s ears once more as he repositioned himself and lay back on his pile of pillows, throwing his breeches haphazardly near his neat pile of other clothing. “Yes, well, it’s one thing to hear something and quite another to see it, is it not?”</p><p>Claude chuckled and stretched like a cat in the sun, his back popping. He ached in the most contradictory and pleasant way. “You could stay, you know, if you wanted, just to sleep. Or more,” he added with his damn wink, “if you’re up for that later.”</p><p>Lorenz shivered and closed his eyes. He was sliding down that slope again. “No…but, thank you. I simply have a lot to think on.”</p><p>“I see,” Claude murmured with a sharp nod, looking more awake than he had in quite awhile. “I’m not going to push my help on you, but if you need anything, I’m…here, for whatever I can do.”</p><p>“I appreciate the sentiment.”</p><p>He rounded so he wouldn’t have to look at whatever that expression was on Claude’s face any longer but froze when he heard the clearing of a throat.</p><p>“Lorenz.”</p><p>Stopping, but not turning around, Lorenz braced himself for whatever was to come.</p><p>“I can’t say I know where your thoughts are right now but I like to think I can guess and…please, don’t beat yourself up for ‘failing to be a proper noble’ or think you’re not living up to societal standards. You’re not failing anything or anyone and you didn’t do anything wrong. Just--” a sigh came from behind him and he could almost see Claude running his hand through his hair. “—just don’t forget that being human is the thing people need right now.”</p><p>“ ‘People’? What ‘people’ need now is a strong leader, more than ever before—“</p><p>“Fine then--” Claude whispered sadly, hands limply resting on the blanket over his lap, “—what <em>I </em>need. I don’t need you as a subject or the Count. I just need you as yourself, Lorenz.”</p><p>"Then it seems my support to your <em>nation</em> is not as important as you would have me believe. Perhaps my resources as a Count are best used for my people who suffer rather than your war effort. As for being your subject, I fear if my support is withdrawn, then you no longer have need to worry on such things if Edelgard further advances her borders. Perhaps then we can simply be Claude and Lorenz." The words stung and angered him far more than he knew they ought to without knowing exactly why. Deciding this was going to be a useless conversation, he finally let the tent flap flop closed as his hand went slack and he left.</p><p>“Lorenz—Lorenz, that’s not what I meant! <em>Fuck!</em>”</p><p>Sure that once Claude could stand on his unsteady legs (Lorenz hoped he had been a great hindrance in the man's ability to walk for the night [it just bought him more time, he didn't actually care if he could turn Claude to jelly or not] in an incredibly selfish way) and had dressed, he would head straight for his tent. Naturally, Lorenz decided to sleep with the wyverns that night. It would be the last place Claude would think to look for him and the farthest away (his poor wobbly deer).</p><p>Well. He lie with them, anyway. Sleep was not a friend that night.</p><p>He couldn't stop thinking about Claude's moans and his own depravity and how he wanted to put Claude's mouth to better use than speaking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude can't seem to get his shit together without a little help and then there is the heavy dose of pandemonium.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have no idea why I continued this or where it is going to end up. This is largely Claude POV. </p><p>So here we go:</p><p>-Horrible cliff hanger<br/>-Self-destructive mindsets<br/>-Violence against a child mentioned briefly (and gender inequality)<br/>-Sorta-kinda racial biases mentioned<br/>-Byleth in they/them pronouns<br/>-Flower language (probably executed badly)<br/>-Dirty talk<br/>-Violence against Demonic Beasts that gets mildly graphic but not like Saw graphic (I don't know how else to explain this help)</p><p>Annnnnnnd I still no idea when this is supposed to be happening I have no excuses</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bed at Garreg Mach was a blessing from the Saints themselves. The mattress was plush, the bedclothes soft and fresh and Claude sank into it as if he were made of stone. It may have taken three days of trails and marching to get here but it was worth it just for this bed.</p><p>What would he do if Lorenz was here? Cock his hip against the desk, lean down, pretend like everything was okay? Act self-assured and try to put words to his feelings again before his survival instinct dealt a fatal blow to any desire he had to parrot at being nonchalant and unafraid of exposing himself to rejection again? Panic and flee out the window? That may be...actually viable. He should start to keep Amelie outside his window just in case. She wasn't as sociable as she used to be anyway, preferring to stick with him whenever possible as opposed to her own kind. Claude was grateful for it in ways he was unable to count.</p><p>His chest ached like a bruised lung, deep and gnawing in a way that he was convinced was visible to the rest of the world and yet there was no indication. The flesh was intact and healthy even as he felt more haggard, wrapping it from the world with a smile like he would a thief's brand. Every action reeked of being a repeat of events from his academy days. Young Claude was back, shallowly sincere, daring him to get even for the hurt.</p><p>It didn’t quite fit anymore; a cloak he had outgrown but, with no other defense from the elements, one he was forced to wear.</p><p>A swift three knocks and Claude reluctantly pulled open the door, the guard stepping aside and motioning to the man behind him. “Your Grace, the Count Gloucester is seeking audience.”</p><p>Claude moved aside and tilted his head before clicking the door shut again. It had been three—no, four—days since Lorenz had all but ran from his tent and the paler man immediately launched into his purpose for coming.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Claude. I’m sorry I never truly looked and treated you with the same consideration and care that you always provided me. I’m sorry about my behavior the other night. I allowed my pride to get the best of me and I apologize deeply for causing you pain.”</p><p>Lorenz’s words struck truer than his lance during battle and Claude’s nails dig into the palms of his hands before he forces them to go slack from sheer force of will. He’s not having this conversation. Not here, not like this, possibly not ever. It’s too little, too late at this point and he’s had too much time to think and stew while Lorenz laughed with the other generals over meals breaks on the trip. There are feelings there he’s tried to execute and when he failed, simply boxed away instead in a far corner of his heart. He just wants this over with and for them to jump back to where they were when they played his tactical board games and debated late into the nights. “I keep telling you that you’ve done nothing wrong. There’s nothing to forgive, Lorenz.”</p><p>The words rung surprisingly true and he desperately warred with the masochistic desire to be vulnerable, to let the mask finally fall and shatter. He decided a long time ago that if he’s going to be hated and judged, then he’s going to be hated and judged for things on terms he is calling and manipulating and Lorenz had reacted in a way he had short-sightedly not accounted for last time like a gambit from a battalion close to fleeing. It left him raw and rankling and on edge and desperately wanting Lorenz to lay hands upon him again, to take the decision out of his hands once more. He despised it and yet it was so easy to let Lorenz lead the dance once his brain vacates his skull.</p><p>“Stop hiding from me and stop hiding from yourself, <em>please</em>,” came a plea and fingers on his chin, directing his head to look into those lavender eyes and he felt the mask unravel at the edges like an old sweater at the look there.</p><p>Anger flared, an old secret ally that wrapped around him and sharpened his instincts while it whispered sweet nothings into his ear, crept up his back and he wrapped his fingers around that delicate but surprisingly strong wrist to pull it away from his chin. Denial is an old deity he worships, a crutch he needed for a bit longer to keep standing in this world and he lets himself sink into every inch like a warm bath. Lorenz understood nothing it seems. “You’re assuming quite a lot, here. It doesn’t work like that.”</p><p>“How <em>does</em> it work then?” Lorenz calmly asked with a displeased click of his tongue.</p><p>A vicious desire to lay out his cards, all the ways he can trump the other man and crumple him from the very inside make acid roil in his gut. It’s a potent but uneven mixture of anger and guilt and it strengthened why this was a horrible idea. His survival instincts blazed to life with a hiss and extended its venomous spines in anticipation of slashing the hand extended him. The vow to be more transparent, more truthful, cracked and fell at his feet like a broken mirror and the only reflection in the pieces is the mask firmly on his face again, poised to cover exposure with a hard-won impassivity. “And ruin the surprise? That would hardly be sporting of me.”</p><p>“Armor the soft spots if you aim to live,” his grandfather had once told him as he sat before a painted portrait of Godfrey in his study, “and quite especially if you hope to thrive as a noble in the courts. Armor them in thrice or you will be ground beneath the marching boots of others, Claude. No one will curb their own dreams for yours, <em>boy</em>. ” Abruptly the old man stood and stabbed the portrait between the eyes, dragging the knife down with a horrid ripping of canvas that had Claude wide-eyed. “You say you have ambitions, but I deplore you: are you strong enough to kill your own heart and endure the grief of sacrificing those around you to feed such a monster in the name of those dreams?”</p><p>“Claude, do you really think that’s why I am presently here? For sport?”</p><p><em>Hold it together for a few more minutes. Let the poison work. </em>“Good <em>day</em>, Lorenz<em>.</em> Do I have to break it down further for you?”</p><p>The dead ice in his stare met his partner’s roaring fire. “Since I don’t know what has changed, I would not be remiss for a little direction, yes.”</p><p>“I have documents that are awaiting reading and then approval. Is that better?”</p><p>“I see I must apologize, then. If it would behoove you to spar, I shall be in the library for the next while.”</p><p>“…Duly noted,” he stated, dead-panned even as he reeled.</p><p>Lorenz nodded stiffly and bowed before turning and letting himself out. When the door closed, he found his knees weak and he sunk down into the mattress again, hand in his hair as he pulled hard at the strands. <em>I’ve miscalculated.</em></p><p>Claude dug his teeth into his knuckle to stop the empty ache as the anger suddenly dispatched and slammed his fist into the downy pillow hard enough to send a few offended feathers flying. He should just cut his losses at this point. Anything else and he was asking for more trouble. There surely had to be signs that were pointing to this outcome…</p><p>He wrenched the door open, scaring the poor guard into near paroxysms. “I’m taking no visitors.”</p><p>“Y-yes, sir!”</p><p>Considering the man, who couldn’t have been out of his late teens, Claude found his eyes narrowing. “I’ll accept alcohol.”</p><p>“Sir?”</p><p>“I’m telling you to procure me alcohol from the kitchens. Actually, wherever you have to get it.”</p><p>“Sir!”</p><p>Claude slammed the door and leaned his forehead against the cool grain of the wood while a muscle in his jaw jumped.</p><p>He was going to scream and lose his last remaining thread if the man returned and said ‘sir’ one more time. Goddess, when had he become more bitter than the herbal remedies from home? He had an inkling he was beginning to understand how Lorenz used to feel in the academy and he felt lower than he had in decades. The memory was nearly only sensory at this point: when his elder half-sister by his father’s first wife called him a half-breed for the first time. His chest ached and his tears burned and his cheeks became hot with shame and confusion.</p><p>She had been beaten, of course (insulting the only male heir at the time), but that still changed nothing and surely didn’t give her words any less truth to them, especially as the other children around the palace followed suit in whispers, some kind of permission suddenly brokered. Even as a child he had understood the truth of their words but the hurt had been the same: self-destructive, shameful, and like a fountain with no spout, spraying anyone stupid enough to come near.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Claude,” the Professor called after a particularly long meeting made longer by his lack of sleep the previous night, “would you care to join me for tea today?”</p><p>He wavered and nearly refused before smoothing an internal sigh. Perhaps it would be good for him to take his mind off things? Besides, Teach always seemed to have access to the best teas and largest selection for some reason. “That…that actually would be really nice, yeah. What time?”</p><p>“How about now?”</p><p>“Now?” Claude rolled the word around in his head. “Well, yeah, that should work. I don’t have anything pressing right now.”</p><p>“If you have something you need to take care of—“</p><p>“—No, no, nothing like that,” he chirped with a smile he hoped extended to his eyes. “I’ve always got time for you and your tea, Teach.”</p><p>The garden terrace was bathed in the usual mid-morning light and was surprisingly empty. Servants piled sweets on a tiered display and bowed with an assortment of teas in an organizer. Teach put one hand on their chin, the usual thinking pose, and slowly pointed to some Almyran pine needle blend with a smile and nod. The young female servant curtsied and placed the bags into the hot kettle of water to steep for them before leaving with her selection.</p><p>It made his heart swell in appreciation that they remembered his favorite and he took the cup offered to him with a bow of his head.</p><p>“I heard you and Lorenz are quarrelling.”</p><p>Claude nearly spit out his tea and coughed, hoping he played it off as being too hot and not quite as sure of his success as he would have liked. “Oh? Where did you hear that?”</p><p>The Professor smiled and linked their fingers together on the table, gaze softly fixed on him in a way that gently urged him to self-reflect but also in a way that also caused a lot of people to squirm.</p><p>Of course someone either had a big mouth or the gossip mill was in full swing already. If his intelligence network strived to be even half as effective as the grapevine system was then war would already be won… “‘Quarrel’ sounds a bit harsh.”</p><p>“I thought you two had set aside your differences?”</p><p>Claude looked at his friend, at the face that didn’t seem to age, paler hair and deep eyes. He wondered for the five-hundredth time what Teach’s mother must have looked like, seeing as they certainly did not seem to take after Jeralt as far as that went. The urge to lie crept up his throat like bile before he dismissed it. This was the one person he could be candid with. “I thought we had, too, but I guess there was more there than either of us realized. I guess he must have thought I insulted him even though that wasn’t my intention and he got angry and then, when he came to apologize after he’d stormed off, I guess I’d been more bothered by it than I ought to have been and…it just hurt, you know? Watching him walk around and be fine so, like I said, when he came to apologize I just…”</p><p>“You became defensive?”</p><p>“…Am I that obvious?”</p><p>The Professor took a small bite of what looked to be a scone and thought for a moment, the silence companionable and calming. “Probably not to anyone else. You’re a great tactician but your only goals have ever desperately been to better everyone, no matter the cost to you. You have an easy air about you, Claude, but you never get close to anyone who doesn’t serve to better your goals in some way and even then I wouldn’t use the word ‘close,’ exactly.”</p><p>The tea suddenly wasn’t sitting well and he stared at his limp hands in his lap.</p><p>“I’m assuming that’s because you <em>can’t</em> be pulled off your path before you reach the end, not that you don’t necessarily <em>want</em> to.”</p><p>How was he so transparent?</p><p>“It’s okay to fail, Claude, and it’s okay to have no idea what you’re doing or what the end result will be.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, it <em>isn’t</em>,” he hissed as nausea welled up in his gut hot and rotting, “because no one—and I mean <em>no one</em>—will take care of things, or <em>fix things</em>, or stop this damned <em>fucking</em> world falling apart as well as I will. I can’t take that <em>chance</em> and I need to know the options, to choose the one with the greatest odds for everyone, and who else will make sure my people are okay? That their lives are bettered, unified, minds opened? No one else will fight for it like I do.”</p><p> “You’ve already come so far, Claude, and your growth as a person and as a leader has been unmatched. We will win this war and the world will become a better place. If you can’t see it through, or your path diverges, I will cut through whatever need be to make it happen. Between the two of us it is assured. The people of these lands—this world--deserve better than what they have been dealt by hands not their own. One way or another, it will be done.”</p><p>He swallowed audibly and opened his mouth before closing it again. If it were anyone else, he would snarl at them or laugh and wave them off. Byleth was sincere, earnest, honorable, and, above all else, had proven time and again that the odds would be overcome if they put their mind to it. They were the greatest asset this world and its people had and the power of the progenitor god that had fused with them would only be used to further ensure their betterment of the world. He inhaled shakily, deeply, as if truly taking a breath for the first time and slumped, wrung out. “Thank you.”</p><p>“I hope this brings you a measure of peace. We are all in this together and we all share the same desire for change. There is no one here who will not help you reach what you seek if you will extend your hand.”</p><p>The world went dark as his eyes slid shut and he enjoyed the warmth of the sun even through his layers.</p><p>“Though, Lorenz will be particularly keen, I’m sure.” His eyes popped open and met the deep emerald eyes as they glinted over the delicate rim of the tea cup.</p><p>“I can’t.”</p><p>“Again: you <em>can’t</em> or you don’t <em>want</em> to?” Byleth asked to the sky, the cup settling on the saucer with a clack. Claude was amazed he himself had been heard with how quietly he had breathed it. “There’s nothing wrong with either, Claude. But did you stop to think that perhaps he wasn’t as okay as his outward appearances lead you to believe? That maybe he thought the same about you?”</p><p>“Wait, just whose side are you on?”</p><p>“I was unaware there were opposing sides here.” Byleth said lazily after another sip of tea. “The way I see it, you’ve locked yourselves into a negative-sum game if you both continue down this path. However, if either of you deviates, you may just be able to tip the scales into one where you both come out with positive sums, if that was something you desired.”</p><p>“What if it isn’t?”</p><p>The Professor shrugged and crossed their arms over their chest loosely. “Then it isn’t. This is <em>your</em> life, Claude and all I’m asking is that you start living it for <em>you.</em> You’re not my student any longer and you no longer bow to the desires of your grandfather, and your parents have always supported you when it counts or you wouldn’t have been in this country in the first place.” The glimmer in their eye suggested they knew exactly who Claude’s parents were. “The path to your destination, how you wish to live your life, and the needs of your people need not be mutually exclusive.”</p><p>Claude sighed and held his head in his hands. “It can’t be that easy. If it was, then everyone would do it.”</p><p>Byleth smiled, standing and smoothing their robe as the noon bell began to clang. “Claude, there is no one else I would rather put my trust in than you and I truly think you’ll find yourself more than capable of overcoming your obstacles. Have as much faith and trust in yourself as I have in you.”</p><p>“How do I do that?”</p><p>“What would you tell a friend to do?”</p><p>“Not to worry, that…I’d help them. They…they deserved to be…happy and…they should take every chance they can get. If people talked and listened to one another then amazing strides can be made and countries changed…the future is fluid and-and people should be, too…”</p><p>“All sound advice.”</p><p>His face heated, colored as the blood rushed to his cheeks in embarrassment. “I guess I’ve been stupid.”</p><p>“You’re not a reckless person, Claude, that’s all. You find it difficult to take uninsured chances. Like I said, it’s alright to have no idea where you’re going to land when you fall. Your friends—“ Byleth gestured around to indicate the monastery “—and I, we won’t let you break and we’ll always be here to put things to right.”</p><p>“I don’t think it will work. He probably hates me again.”</p><p>“Claude, he never hated you. If you don’t believe me on anything else, believe me on that.”</p><p>“You talked to him, didn’t you? Gah, I should have <em>known</em>—“</p><p>“I talked to him as I am talking to you. You both have the same concerns.”</p><p>Claude’s head jerked up and he stared. “No way.”</p><p>“Mm. Your paths so far are surprisingly parallel in life.”</p><p>“Then that means I really fucked up,” Claude cursed, head sinking down to the cool wrought-iron of the table.</p><p>“Again: very valid, very similar concerns. Less cursing but still very much the same. Claude, forgive me for having to duck out on this talk, but I have a meeting with Seteth. Would you like to wait and we can continue after?”</p><p>“No,” he murmured with a wave of his hand, “no, that’s alright. I just need to think and, well; I think it’s something I need to do alone.”</p><p>The concerned smile he got in return only made him want to crawl further in on himself.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It took another week to pull the strings together for his plan and he searched for Lorenz high and low before he decided to skulk around the dining hall and wait.</p><p>The purple-haired knight walked in with a group before they all splintered and went their separate ways to gather their dinners. Lorenz took his time down the line, browsing before he pointed to the special written behind the food counter with a smile. Always polite and courteous to the last.</p><p>Finally, after forever, he watched as Lorenz took his tray and sat gingerly at his usual place by one of the windows overlooking the courtyard outside the dining hall, the window lined with ivy.</p><p>He pushed off the column and plopped down across from Lorenz in the mess hall. The wooden box scratched his chest slightly where his under tunic tended to gape a bit when he removed it from his outer robe, sliding it over like the peace offering it was.</p><p>“What’s this?” Lorenz asked flatly as he chewed his potatoes and stared at like it had slapped his mother. Claude’s anxiety had an insane urge to sing-song about his manners falling apart during war but he doubted it would endeavor to help his cause if he mentioned the man’s elbows on the table. “Peace offering?”</p><p>He equally bit his lip, hard, at the urge to ask when Lorenz had switched from flowery sentences to normal speech and whether it was a trial period or not. “Something like that.”</p><p>Lorenz raised one of his thin lavender eyebrows and reached to take the box, still body warm and all, his grace still very much intact and enviable. Claude felt like he was always stumbling in every way lately. Those thin fingers pulled a small bag of freshly plucked rose petals wrapped in cheesecloth with valerian and blue cornflower buds, eyelids sliding shut as the fragrance hit him.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Claude was literally on the edge of his seat.</p><p>“Where did you get this? It’s nearly autumn and the roses are far from blooming at this time of year. We’ve lost access to the south, so you can’t have possibly gotten them there, and the greenhouse is picked bare—"</p><p>“You have my apologies on the wait. I actually wanted to come and speak with you days ago but it wasn’t ready. I honestly hope it’s to your liking but if you would prefer something different—“</p><p>“It’s wonderful,” Lorenz breathed, cradling it as it may break.</p><p>Claude nodded and slapped the table before standing abruptly, face on fire with…something he couldn’t pinpoint but it made him want to flee. “Glad to hear it.”</p><p>“<em>Claude.</em>”</p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut and stopped dead in his tracks. “Yeah?”</p><p>“I don’t relish having this discussion in the dining hall. Would you care to join me by the lake later? The moon is supposed to rise particularly early, but if you have plans—“</p><p>“Yes! I mean, yes, that’s acceptable.” He could see the reddened cheeks over his shoulder and he brought his hands up to fold them behind his neck and grin in a way he knew looked roguish and cocky even though he was quaking inside. “I’ll see you at the fish clearing at half-past six?”</p><p>Lorenz nodded, hiding a small smile as he fingered the small cloth before storing it back in its wooden box. “I shan’t imagine being anywhere else.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The moon cast a whispery reflection on the lake surface, the water having been disturbed by something, probably a fish. It wasn’t high in the sky; peeking just over the horizon by perhaps a few fingers width and melding into the dark blue of the sky that birthed orange and red as the sun began sinking slowly.</p><p>Lorenz stood in the small clearing and looked at it peacefully. The clearing was no more than a hundred yards from the lake shore and down a steep ravine, which actually kept the place quite private. He hadn’t been here since before the battle where Rhea had been lost to them, though he had supervised as the fish in the small monastery pond were restocked from the mountain spring-fed lake and water hauled to until the aqueduct that supplied drinking water had been repaired.</p><p>“It’s as lovely as predicted.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Claude hummed as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. It was becoming colder and he wasn’t sure if it was an advantage for their troops or a hindrance. “It is.”</p><p>“Did you mean it? When you said you needed me as Lorenz and no one else?”</p><p>“I need you in more capacities than I even realized and I probably have for a long time now, if I’m honest.” Lorenz grabbed his forearm and squeezed just to ground himself. “Yes: the answer is <em>yes.</em> I wanted you to read my mind and when you couldn’t, I convinced myself it wasn’t worth it, and I got angry and I wanted you to hurt like I was hurting when you ra—left the other night. The truth is that I wanted you to stay the other night when you came to my room but I also expected you to <em>know</em> I wanted you to without putting myself out there and telling you. I wanted you to assume all the risk if something went wrong while I got all the benefit if it went right and I’m sorry for that. It was unfair of me to put that burden on you. No, it was cruel of me and I can’t apologize enough.”</p><p>“Then we’ve both been fools for far too long.”</p><p>A bruising kiss knocked their teeth together and Claude nearly lost his footing on a branch before thumping hard into the tree it belonged to, the air in his lungs leaving in a rush at the impact. Their mouths separated in the fall and Claude slid his hands from his pockets to the fur neck of Lorenz’s coat and yanked him down to kiss again, hands threading in his hair while he explored his mouth.</p><p> “Lorenz—“ Claude turned his head to the side and sniffed like he didn’t care and was talking about the weather but the blush at the edge of his cravat gave him away as well as the panting. Lorenz yanked the offending piece of cloth away and sealed his lips there. Claude gasped deliciously at the teeth on his neck and pushed the taller man away with what must have taken no small amount of force. “Lorenz—stop; listen, just for a second--”</p><p>“If you truly do not want this—to be beside you, as an equal—then speak now.” </p><p>Strong hands pushed him back, just far enough to look into his eyes and Lorenz found himself pinned and fighting desperately to not bury his face in the line of exposed flesh once more.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume we want the same things here, then,” he heard the man whisper, voice trying for steady and not quite making it before he bit his lip and lowered his voice even further, “and it’s not just you. I’m—the things I <em>do</em> want, Goddess, but I have to know--”</p><p>“I want you to be mine. I stand with you. I stand <em>beside</em> you. Is that enough? I will prostrate myself at your feet, if that is what you require.” Hanging on every word like it was air, Claude gulped and licked his lips. Lorenz leaned forward until they were almost nose-to-nose, watching the pupils explode in those green eyes.</p><p>“I see. Um,” Claude cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “yes, that-that is a thing that I do want. The first part, not the “you throwing yourself at my feet” part. Well, maybe it is. I don’t know yet. Anyway, don’t let me stop you, then. Carry on.”</p><p>“Mm, patience. We will get there. In the meantime, your gift earlier, those flowers: ‘be gentle, I’m ready’? You’re rather more bold than I gave you credit for.”</p><p>The swallow was like pins dropping and the green-black pools were occluded by dark eyelashes when Claude looked down and away, blood-red dusting on his cheeks highlighted in the colors of a dying day.  “<em>Lorenz</em>, <em>please</em>—I-I didn’t know how else to—I spent damned <em>days</em> in the library, for your information, and I couldn’t just ask <em>you</em>--”</p><p>“<em>Claude</em>,” he admonished in the same tone as Claude had said ‘<em>Lorenz</em>’, all breathy and desperate, not letting him off that easily. His hand fisted in those auburn locks and he watched the tendons in the beautiful neck strain when he slowly and gently pulled backward, forcing their gazes to meet when Claude had nowhere else to look and smiling at the hot breath washing over his cheek. He was laying fully against Claude now, all his weight, sandwiching him between his body and the unforgiving trunk of the tree. He was frankly amazed that he was still finding space to breathe, let alone pant like a dog. “You asked last time, so I pose the same question to you: have you thought of this? It would be impolite to refuse such a query, would it not? Shall I add ‘<em>please</em>’ so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities? I think you’ve thought about this quite extensively, actually.”</p><p>“That’s so unfair,” his companion whined, hands coming up to the upper arms of Lorenz’s jacket just for something to hang on to and they fisted when Lorenz again mimicked him with that ‘<em>please’</em>. “I want it on the record you’re being unfair—“</p><p>“Unfair? Lorenz Hellman Gloucester? Really, dearest, who would believe you? There’s no one more fair out there.”</p><p>A yelp made a smirk curl its way onto Lorenz’s face when he thumbed a nipple through Claude’s robe under his open jacket. He clucked his tongue. “Well, I suppose since cat’s got your tongue that I simply shall have to go first in the interest of saving time, of course. Hmm, how to word it properly? I’ve had time to mull it over since that night, of course, but I’m still unsure how to best get my point across.” He hated that he had to take his tongue from where it was running broad stripes over the whorls of Claude’s ear so he could keep speaking, dipping in before flicking the cartilage, causing the loveliest trembles every few words. “I want to see you covered in white until you look as a pearl. Yours…mine…I want to see your legs give out…I want to see the sweat drip off the bite marks I leave when I am betwixt your legs for hours, until you have no sense of time, until you beg for me to stop, to continue, until you can’t remember your own name…but, most of all, I want to bind you beneath the war table and have your tongue upon me and I can then decide how to handle you best. Would you like that?”</p><p>“Anything,” Claude gasped wetly, hands fisting in Lorenz’s hair as he kissed him desperately, trying to angle to gain some friction <em>somewhere</em>. “I want—please tell me you mean every single one of those--“</p><p>“Indubitably and I know, my lovely,” Lorenz purred with another kiss, “I know you want. Mm, believe me, I would love to indulge you like the finest wine, to show you truly, but it will have to wait.”</p><p>“Wha—“ Confusion screwed up his face adorably, back arching when Lorenz once more played absently with his nipples before twisting, little jolts dragging a moan out of him.  </p><p>“While I am enjoying this, I don’t have any sort of fantasy that involves freezing or frostbite.”</p><p>Those words warred in his mind and the broken branch on the tree trunk prodding around his kidney throbbed. He grit his teeth and swore in Almyran, wound up and shaking. “Lack of planning on your part, then. You didn’t bring a blanket?”</p><p>Lorenz looked scandalized but it was unclear whether it was from Claude telling him he should have absolutely assumed to bring a blanket or because he yanked him out of the moment.</p><p>“It’s just a question, come on, Lorenz, you were literally <em>just</em> talking about—with your tongue and—“</p><p>“--<em>I know what I said!</em> It was the heat of the moment, you weren’t exactly protesting—do not repeat it!--“</p><p>“--Come on, please, just touch me a little—“</p><p>“—why didn’t <em>you</em> bring a blanket if your planning was so much better than my own—“</p><p>“—I <em>would</em> have if I knew you wanted my pants off so badly--</p><p>“—Claude, I’m <em>freezing</em>, my hands are <em>freezing—that is not what I said!</em>—“</p><p>“—all the more reason so I can <em>warm them up</em>—“</p><p>The primordial bellow rang out from the trees, vibrations shooting through the ground and rattling the tree pressed against his back.</p><p>“What was that—“</p><p>“Turn, go, back to the monastery!”</p><p>His voice was panicked to his own ears and the cinders of arousal had been doused, replaced by ice and fear as the hairs on the back of his neck shot up and the crunching of trees as they were felled. The ground shook again and again, each signaling one of the great pines being uprooted with outrageous cracking sounds, another echoing screech sending birds scattering toward the darkening sky. Something was huge, angry, and—Claude wanted to earmark this as the most important part to emphasize since Lorenz <em>wasn’t moving</em>—heading right toward them.</p><p>“Did you bring Failnaught?”</p><p>Claude reached down and pulled a dagger from his boot and laughed in a hysterical way, “We <em>literally </em>just had this conversation and its back in my room, lying on top of the blanket I <em>didn’t bring</em>--”</p><p>Lorenz looked horrified but Claude couldn’t be sure about which part and he stumbled as the man pushed him to get him moving. “Claude—“ He almost saw the words form in Lorenz’s brain that never escaped his mouth: “<em>you brought an implement of death but not your damned blanket?”</em></p><p>“Will you <em>go?</em> That thing sounds pretty pissed off and <em>you’re the one who can use magic!</em> Get up on the ridge!”</p><p>“What, no—“</p><p>The demonic beast stood on its hind legs and snorted, sniffing toward the sky placidly before spotting the man in yellow.</p><p>“<em>Why</em> did the Alliance pick <em>yellow</em>? <em>Great </em>war color, can’t see that coming in a pinch,” Claude muttered to himself as the beast fell back onto all fours with the cracking of nearby trees, pawing at the ground with one of its front legs. The skin was a sickly gray and stretched tightly over its elongated skull like a drum and fat globs of drool dripped off its curved teeth. Like a demented gargoyle, the beast fixed the man with its red eyes as he braced his feet apart and moved backward like molasses.</p><p>Then it reared back, cracked the earth beneath it as it slammed back down, and charged.</p><p>Instincts taking over, Claude turned fluidly, breaking into a run toward the ravine they had hiked down earlier. He was pleased to see Lorenz slightly ahead of him but the beast was audibly catching up, the thundering of the ground getting stronger as it got closer to his tail. When he could almost feel its rancid breath on him, he turned at the last second, planting his feet at the base of a nearby tree, and stabbed the dagger into its armored flesh. How he kept hold of the dagger was a mystery as blood covered the handle and the wayward momentum felt as though it would yank his arms off if he didn’t hold fast, crest blinking to give him strength and letting his fingers grip the dagger hilt like it was attached to his very life-force, and the stench of filth and death filled his nostrils until he nearly gagged as the blade snapped off entirely and lodged in the beast’s side. A hot splatter of blood covered his cheek and neck (the same cheek and neck Lorenz had his lips on not ten minutes ago) and soaked through his shirt as the creature roared by with its split flesh and the metallic smell mixed with the pungent odor of the animal itself further set him to the edge of near vomiting.</p><p>He choked down the feeling and whirled after the beast had galloped past, barely noticing the wound down nearly its entire side as it barreled through a tree, shoving it aside as if it were tissue paper with a toss of its head. Lorenz was sprinting up the narrow path to the top of the ravine when the tree struck and buried itself deeply into the bedrock there. For his credit, Lorenz was able to slide under it, but it was narrow and a wrong move could cause both of them a lot more trouble or even death.</p><p>Claude didn’t notice he was holding his breath and his heart had alternately stopped and never seemed to miss a beat.</p><p>He leapt out of the way when the creature charged again, tucking in and using the momentum to roll himself back onto his feet, only to do it again when the damn thing came galloping back, trying to gore him with the ugly horn protruding from its snout. Dizzy from the constant vaulting, he prayed he could do it just a little more to let Lorenz to the top of the ridge.</p><p>A huge firework of red sparks lit up the area and hung there, casting the demonic beast and the trail of its blood in an even more grotesque and deadly aura.</p><p>It snarled, shook its fat head, the extra skin around its neck flapping, and charged again.</p><p>The beast was engulfed in a sudden shot of blue-white light from the sky, the impact so great that rocks and roots from trees sank downward and the ground cracked, the animal being shot down as if by the Goddess during a hunt. The impact sent rocks and tree branches flying as the blue circle beneath the stunned beast faded and it lay there for a moment, perhaps thirty seconds at most, and Claude’s brain had convinced himself it was dead before it inhaled deeply and let off another piercing scream and stood, stumbling slightly before regaining itself.</p><p>“Fuck,” he hissed, hoping against hope that Agnea’s Arrow had been enough to buy him more time if not kill it outright.  </p><p>“Claude!”</p><p>The Professor was at the top of the ravine, horse layered in sweat, bright puffs of hot air smoking from its nose as it tossed its head, and they threw Failnaught down. Claude watched it in slow motion, world narrowed down to only <em>this</em>, his crest starting to hum as he dashed toward it as fast as he could. He knew the beast was behind him, could smell its awful carcass smell, and reached as the world tilted and narrowed.</p><p>His crest burst just as his fingers touched Failnaught and he found himself rolling along the ground, arms wrapped around the bow to protect it, the single arrow the professor threw notched against the sinew there and he drew it back as easily as he breathed. It hummed like an old lover and it was warm and welcoming and safe as it enveloped him in its warm glow and he and the beast locked eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Pain. Confusion. Anger. Hatred.</em>
</p><p>Notching back the arrow further, further than he had ever dared to pull the relic, further than he felt his arm could possibly pull, and further than he had ever had need to, he let the string slip from his dripping fingers and prayed to the Goddess and the Saints that he had poured enough of his strength into the shot to kill it. This was it: he literally was banking everything on this. He had no backup plan and they were going head to head and no one—<em>no one—</em>had dealt a death blow to a demonic beast without a whole team behind them.</p><p>The arrow whistled sweetly as it slung by and sunk deep between its eyes, bright glow piercing the armored hide with an explosive impact, dark blood splattering with a dull impact and bursting out the other side of the beast’s skull before darting through several trees (<em>the holes are smoking?</em>) and eventually coming to rest in the third it encountered with a sickening crack.</p><p>The fiend stumbled, momentum sending it wobbling, weight pushing it down hard as its head dove first and dirt and forest floor ripped up violently.</p><p>It came to a rest about twenty feet before him, on its side and in a ditch of its own making with blood trickling out its mouth and eyes staring fixed.</p><p>Numbly, he stood and watched both the others scramble down the ravine, giving up and sliding the last few feet down. Lorenz’s hand around his bare wrist grounded him and he snapped back into his body, crest glow flashing at the contact, Gloucester crest behind his eyes, before it all faded as quickly as it had come and he wobbled. The tree with his arrow wedged impossibly deep continued to crack and tremble before toppling backward like an empty wine glass, the earth shaking a final time as it impacted and seemed to jump before it, too, lay still on the ground.</p><p>“You’ve overdone it.”</p><p>“Thanks for that, at the end,” Claude said in a conversational tone as if he hadn’t heard his companion.</p><p>“Thank Lorenz,” the Professor added lightly, crossing their arms. “He cast the spell. I’m amazed it integrated with your arrow so well, though.”</p><p>“How did you know to bring Failnaught?”</p><p>“I don’t really know,” they answered with a shrug and a glance back up at their horse as the animal pulled a leaf off a nearby tree and ate it. “I had a feeling it was calling to you and then I saw the flare and I knew something wasn’t right. I wish you would have mentioned you were heading into the forest but I can also…<em>understand</em> why you didn’t.”</p><p>Claude ignored it and turned to lay his forehead on Lorenz’s shoulder, forcing him to take his weight. “Oh, man, that was so scary, even scarier than Lysithea when I tell her about the ghosts in the monastery, or when Marianne first told me she talks to unpeople, or Petra popped out of that tree that time!”</p><p>Lorenz gave Claude a taste of his own medicine and ignored him but did reach out and pat his back. “They’ve never appeared so close to the monastery before. That means something must have changed. We should hurry back.”</p><p>Byleth helped them both up the ravine but seemed more focused on Claude, gripping tight to Lorenz’s hand, after he had particular difficulty getting over the tree. A clicking of their tongue and the horse slowly and carefully made its way over to them.</p><p>“Hey, Dorte, long time no see,” whispered Claude with a pat to its flank, wincing as the Professor pried his stiff fingers off Failnaught one by one and held it tight.</p><p>“Up you get,” Byleth said with a little push.</p><p>“Give me but a moment,” Lorenz shushed them both, climbing gracefully into the saddle and quickly scratching behind Dorte’s ears before extending his hand to Claude. “There. You can ride in the front.”</p><p>“No, no way—“</p><p>“Claude,” the Professor interrupted, Teacher Voice in full display, “get up there.”</p><p>“I’m covered in that thing’s blood! I’m disgusting and Lorenz has specially tailored clothes!”</p><p>“Your concern for his clothes is touching, I’m sure, but you won’t make it back if you walk. I’m not opposed to carrying you but <em>someone</em> is going to get blood on them. It’s simply less likely you’ll get it on his front versus my back as it seems you wisely placed your front to it in battle so it is hardly on your flank. If you ride behind Lorenz, you will fall off, and you will be carried. Those are your options, as my father used to say.”</p><p>Claude sighed and tried to wipe his hands on his pants to no avail. All it did was further spread the mess and he gave up with a huff before he took the pale hand offered to him, grimacing as the blood smeared and squelched between their palms. “So gross.”</p><p>For his part, Lorenz didn’t comment, arms coming to box around Claude’s hips in order to take the reins of the horse when they set off at a walk.</p><p>The coppery smell still made his stomach turn unpleasantly but he found himself sinking backward into the chest behind him as time went on. The contrast between the cooling mess on his front made him more appreciative of the larger presence at his back that radiated heat. Was Lorenz always like a furnace? It was nice and the rose scent wafted over the stink of blood, causing him to turn his head to search it out. It was strongest in the crook of Lorenz’s neck and he buried his face there regardless if he would have a horrid cramp in his neck when they returned. <em>Well, maybe he can take care of that like last time.</em></p><p>He shivered and Lorenz pressed closer, mistaking it for being cold, those hips slotted closer and more perfectly than they had any right to be. The want to take that hand and guide it down again was severely outweighed by the inability (or was it lack of will?) to raise his arms as the adrenaline from the fight and his use of the crest faded and was replaced with lead and a deep ache of overuse.</p><p>Then the world faded and floated as he passed out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude is a tease and Lorenz gets revenge.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think I'm done. I think I've done it for this fic and I hope its finished. Finally.</p><p>Warnings:</p><p>I can't actually think of anything to particularly warn against or explain in this chapter that isn't in the tags. Let me know if you think differently!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He drifted again, unaware if he was conscious or dreaming. It was comfortable and he was still so tired. He can’t have been asleep that long if he felt like he had barely gotten any rest at all.</p><p>“Claude.”</p><p>Strong fingers lifted his head (that was nice of them, he didn’t think he could do it himself) and a bitter fluid was forced past his lips. He nearly choked and sputtered but he had enough sense left to swallow.</p><p>“That wasn’t nice.”</p><p>Lorenz laughed and lifted his limp hand to rest against the pale skin, hand cradled between those fine fingers as the man nuzzled his hand. Claude smiled and felt at the edge of his lip with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re awake.”</p><p>Claude forced his eyes open and looked around without moving his head. It was way too neat to be his room and the mattress wasn’t as firm. The sheets were silky against the backs of his thighs and he was in his small clothes. He wished he had the energy… “I’m in your bed.”</p><p>One lavender eyebrow climbed in that questioning way Lorenz was so good at. Of course he was great in the courts: the man had almost complete mastery over his body language.</p><p>“Just never thought I’d actually get here, that’s all,” Claude laughed before he stopped abruptly at the sharp pain in the right side of his back that shot down his arm, holding his breath and that made it <em>worse.</em> He hadn’t realized he smacked his head into the pillow and grit his teeth until he forced himself to relax. “What happened? It wasn’t like this before.”</p><p>“I’m not surprised, honestly. Adrenaline and Manuela said you tore a good portion of the muscle on the right side of your back and arm when you drew Failnaught back so far. She and Hanneman both agree that without your crest, you wouldn’t be moving much for months, even with faith magic. They’re fairly convinced between my spell on your arrow, your increased strength from your crest in drawing Failnaught so much farther than normal, in combination with its ability to transfer life force from the affected being to yourself, is what allowed you to kill the beast without a whole battalion behind you. Your crest saved your life, Claude, and repaired the majority of damage to you. Manuela was able to do the rest but, just to be sure, she’s ordered a tincture every four hours for you.” Lorenz sighed and ran Claude’s knuckles over his lips. “It’s to negate the toxins from the ‘sudden muscle death’, as she put it. It also contains something for pain and something to ensure bed rest for the next day.”</p><p>“Perfect. Is that the disgusting thing you just shoved down my throat?”</p><p>“The very same.”</p><p>“I’d thought,” Claude laughed again, a little more acrimoniously this time, and fisted Lorenz’s hand involuntarily, “it’d be a little different. You know, me practically naked in the bed because you just couldn’t wait to get my clothes off because you <em>couldn’t wait to get my clothes off</em>, not that they were covered in disgusting blood. Maybe moaning, just not from the pain. Laying here and letting you ravish me because you tied me to the headboard, not because I just can’t manage anything else.”</p><p>Lorenz smiled sweetly and Claude melted.</p><p>“I still could. Ravish you, that is.”</p><p>He groaned and turned his head away from those burning eyes, elongating the sound when a twinge set off the pain in his neck. Sweat was starting to creep up on his forehead but it wasn’t from anything he enjoyed. “Goddess and saints, you’ll be the death of me. No, I didn’t mean—“</p><p>“I know,” Lorenz said with that same smile still in place, reaching to twirl the strand of hair that always flopped onto his forehead. Lips kissed his eyelids when they fluttered shut. “I know what you meant, Claude. I’m here and I’ll be here when you wake, alright? How does that sound, lovely?”</p><p>“That—that sounds good,” he panted, trying to slow down his breathing. The hand was cool against his forehead, stroking absently until he felt his brow unknot. “L’renz.”</p><p>“Hush, sleep now.”</p><p>The maddening hand from their night together was back, that thumb dragging along the grain of the hair on his jaw, smoothing it just to feel. When he went boneless, Lorenz went the other way, each hair tugging as it went against its intended direction. He went floaty again when the thumb pressed gently behind his jaw, rubbing circles in the joint and the muscle. It would be embarrassing to hear himself make the small “ah” noises if he wasn’t nearly unconscious.</p><p>Then he was and he liked to think it was Lorenz’s fingers that did it and not the vulnerary.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>     </p><p>He woke to a hand massaging him and, while it was a rather pleasant way to start the day, he was still a bit too stiff to lend much aide. “Not sure I can move that much just yet.”</p><p>“That’s all right,” the breathy voice behind him breathed over the shell of his ear, making him shiver, “allow me.”</p><p>Claude opened his mouth to protest and shut it on a groan, a nose nuzzling the tender spot just behind his jaw, a jolt flashing through him. It seemed Lorenz was particularly fond of it and he couldn’t bring himself to complain, instead turning his head further to the side before teeth sealed over it.</p><p>He ground back into the hips behind him, the brand of heat digging near his hip.</p><p>“Do you still want me to ravish you?”</p><p>“Not going to say no,” he sighed and jumped when fingers dug into the skin between his thigh and his sack.</p><p>“If you want me to stop or I do something you don’t like, say ‘field rations’.”</p><p>A snort escaped him before he could stop it. “<em>What</em>?”</p><p>“I want you to say ‘field rations’ if you want me to stop—“</p><p>“—no, no, I heard you fine, that’s not the problem—“</p><p>“—I’m puzzled about which part of this is difficult to understand, Claude—“</p><p>“—no, but, seriously, why ‘field rations’?”</p><p>“It’s unlikely to come up in everyday conversation, is it not?”</p><p>Lorenz looked at him from where he was propped up on one elbow, shirtless, lounging like a god.</p><p>“So…?”</p><p>“That way there can be no confusion as to what you could possibly mean. If you were to tell me to stop, what if you didn’t really wish me to stop?”</p><p>Claude’s face screwed up adorably. “You can’t come up with anything better than ‘field rations’?”</p><p>Lorenz sighed and waved his hand. “I’m more than open to suggestions.”</p><p>“What about ‘Alois’?”</p><p>Lorenz shuddered as he pictured the man coming chivalrously to Claude’s rescue in his full, clunking armor, pushing Lorenz off and holding his cape to cover Claude’s bare chest while averting his eyes as Claude sputtered and called him an advantageous brute, leading him on to get to his Crest and family name. “I would rather you refrain from calling other names while in bed. However, it would certainly be effective.”</p><p>He threw the pillow over Claude’s face, effectively covering it. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We can come up with stuff together!”</p><p>“You are a brat, Claude von Riegan.”</p><p>“Really?” Claude’s eyes sparkled more brightly with mischievous intentions as he pulled the pillow away. “I didn’t know you felt that way, Lorenz.”</p><p>“Of course you did,” Lorenz shot back, leaning to kiss him deeply, to get lost in his lips. “You’ve always known.”</p><p>Claude laughed and Lorenz moved to swallow it, wanting to suck the sound out of him until there was nothing left, to bury it in himself and keep it safe for eternity, reaching for him again and swallowing the cry in much the same way.</p><p>“Roll onto your side again.”</p><p>He reached for a vial of mineral oil he used to keep his lance from rusting and dribbled it on his fingers, reaching between Claude’s legs to smear it until he was slick and slotted up behind him.</p><p>“Keep your legs closed. I’ll not have you hurting that which has just healed.”</p><p>Claude nodded and gasped when Lorenz pushed into the hot slick between his thighs, hardness coming to nudge up into the soft skin behind Claude’s testicles. He reached for the man’s leaking prick and grasped it before he thrust his hips forward, setting a slow pace his hand trailed.</p><p>The shorter man’s face was turned and buried in the bedding, leaving his neck open to lips and teeth and Lorenz explored the skin leisurely. Nails dug into the muscles of his forearm as it moved, probably just for something to hang onto, and he felt Claude’s sweat start to bead. He was rigid and motionless except for his mouth opening and closing, nose squished into the mattress so his face wasn’t visible at all but his jaw was visibly working.</p><p>“Are you--alright?” Lorenz asked, a bit more breathlessly than he would have liked to hear from himself.</p><p>“Yessss,” he heard Claude hiss, “yes, it just hurts a little, lay-laying on-on my arm—but don’t—don’t stop—I’m close--“</p><p>He did stop and swept some of the oil on the thumb of the hand not tugging Claude’s slick member, reaching between them just above where he had just been and forced it slowly past the dusky ring of muscle there.</p><p>Claude grunted and gulped air like he was suffocating, bowing forward and spilling heavily into his hand. Lorenz rubbed himself on Claude’s calf and worked him through the aftershocks before using the seed to work himself to orgasm, imaging his skin was somehow absorbing it in the most intimate way and painted a stripe on Claude’s leg.</p><p>He let his thumb slip out and the man beside him hummed. “I want food.”</p><p>“You sound uncannily like Raphael.”</p><p>“I thought you hated my impressions of people?”</p><p>“Usually they are quite terrible but you seem to have improved today.”</p><p>“I also want a bath.”</p><p>Lorenz stretched and rolled slowly out of the bed, pulling a carefully folded shirt from his drawers over his head and he began to dress. He ignored the way Claude watched him with an expression he couldn’t place. “I shall hurry next door and gather some clothes for you then.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The golden smile was back and he ducked out before he sunk into it or surely became blind.</p><p>               </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Two days later and they had seen little of each other since then, Byleth pulling Claude aside to run scenarios by him as to the spawning of the Demonic Beast. They spent most of one day locked in the cardinal room, pouring over maps and Lorenz knew little of what else, paying attention to his own studies and helping Ignatz sketch up-to-date maps of troop movements. On the second day Manuela clicked in on her high heels and plucked Claude up by his collar and dragged him to the infirmary. She must have given a clean bill of health because he was bent over a table in the mess hall with the Professor three hours later when Lorenz ambled in with Ignatz for a mid-morning breakfast.</p><p>After settling with a fresh cup of tea and a crumpet and egg, he watched Claude stand and bow to the Professor, heading over to their table and plopping down as if he had been there the whole time.   </p><p>“Ignatz,” Claude interjected with a wave of his hand and a conversational tilt of his head, “I’m trying to get a sense of things, here. What do you think of the field rations?”</p><p>Lorenz choked on his tea and started coughing while the green-haired man patted his back and darted his wide-eyed gaze back and forth between his companions. “What do I think of the field rations? I-I’m not sure what you mean?”</p><p>Claude continued as if Lorenz wasn’t dying over breakfast less than two feet away. “I’m thinking of altering them to include ink, quills, paper, that sort of thing.”</p><p>“That-that would be nice! Um, Lorenz, are you alright? Do you need the healer?"</p><p>Managing to take a deep breath as Claude flounced off as quickly as he had come, he croaked, “I’m fine, thank you.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>     </p><p> </p><p>He actually had to close his eyes and take a calming moment of counting to ten when Claude ran up toward him later in the day, waving a piece of paper.</p><p>“Hey, Hilda! Hilda, wait! Oh. Hey, Lorenz,” the infuriating figure sighed, eyes alight with a smile as if he just noticed he was there. “I just had a quick question.”</p><p>Lorenz cracked and put his hands over his face and groaned.</p><p>Hilda raised an immaculate eyebrow.</p><p>Claude beamed and leaned against the monastery fence, readying his writing implement like some sort of self-proclaimed scribe. “How do you feel about the <em>field rations</em>?”</p><p>“You mean besides that they totally don’t have anything nice in them at all?”</p><p>“See, this is the kind of feedback I’m looking for! Mmhmm, uh-huh, yeah, keep going—“</p><p>Lorenz bit his tongue until it bled and walked off stiffly while the words rolled around in his mind peppered with the breathy noises his imagination sewed between them.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lunch was much of the same as both Raphael and Claude clunked trays down near him, arguing if <em>smoked meat</em> should be included in the <em>field rations</em> or not and <em>oh</em>, yes, <em>please</em>, tell me more, and between the smile on Lorenz’s face that was sharp enough to cut and his napkin fisted in one hand, no one else dared take residence up at the table to give him something to distract himself with. It got worse when the toe of Claude’s boot knocked his under the table, never taking his eyes off Raphael during their lively chat. He kicked fiercely but Claude was quicker and moved to cross his legs and Lorenz only got the side of his chair, moving it a bit.</p><p>Claude laughed and played it off like he was simply scooting closer, body language open and receptive to his conversation with Raphael while Lorenz stewed and the foot was back, poking the inseam of his knee. He grabbed it smoothly and twisted it outward, putting pressure on Claude’s ankle just this side of pain, just enough to warn him that this was a dangerous game he was playing as the familiar heat flared through him and the foot bumped the inside of his thigh.</p><p>Claude laughed again at something Raphael said, teeth a little bared and Lorenz pushed a little harder.</p><p>The brunette let his head sag forward and hummed, mouth open a little. “You know, I’m starting to think I know what you mean when you say you’re always hungry.”</p><p>“Really? That just means you have to eat more!”</p><p>He gulped when Lorenz twisted a little more and looked at into lavender eyes with blown pupils. “That so?”</p><p>“Oh, no, you’re not letting him talking about food again, are you?”</p><p>Lorenz dropped the foot in his hand like it was a hot coal at the voice so close to him and covered up the thud of Claude’s foot on the stone floor by pushing his chair back. “It seems these two have found a common topic, Leonie. I would leave them to it if I were you.”</p><p>“I’ll say,” she huffed, arms crossing over her chest, but ended up sitting in his recently vacated seat anyway as he bustled to drop the dishes into their receptacle before beating a hasty retreat.</p><p>               </p><p>               </p><p>***                 </p><p>     </p><p> </p><p>Dodging Claude the rest of the day was difficult and there were a few close calls where he nearly didn’t escape. He wasn’t sure how long this game was going to go on but he had no intentions of it progressing past supper.</p><p>He was going to eat one meal today if it killed him.</p><p> </p><p>               </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The sounds of Claude clunking books around past the wall shared by their rooms signaled the man had either given up or exhausted himself from searching for him all day. He really had no idea why Claude couldn’t find anything better to do, especially with the war, but he wasn’t <em>particularly</em> angry about it. Scratch that. He was frustrated enough to shake the stuffing out of the man.</p><p>When the knock came upon his door, he ripped it open and yanked him inside by the collar, caging the shorter man’s head between his arms upon the wood with a dull thud. His entire body was hot and it cut all other feelings away with a knife and his voice came out in a low growl.</p><p>“You knew exactly what you were doing today.”</p><p>“Did I? That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Claude smiled crookedly at him, a dare in his peridot eyes laced with understanding. “Are you sure you don’t have the wrong guy?”</p><p>Lorenz bit his earlobe and palmed him through his pants. “Oh, dear, how terribly awkward this is. Please, you have my sincerest apologies for slinging such baseless accusations. It seems I'm looking for someone much more <em>scheming</em> than the likes of you.”</p><p>“Well, that’s more like it,” Claude panted, “but, what’s more important, is how do you intend to atone for such offenses?”</p><p>A quick scuffle ensued as Lorenz turned and threw Claude over his hip, the man landing on his back on the floor by the bed with a whoosh of air. He regained his breath when Lorenz followed him down and straddled his thighs.</p><p>“Wow. That’s, I mean I don’t want to kick a guy when he’s down, and I literally mean down here, but how do you miss the bed?”</p><p>Gently guiding his arms upward, Lorenz pinned the other man’s wrists between a single hand, hovering to look down at the face beneath him. “Now now, there's no need to be harsh. I just happened to be...incredibly...distracted. It seems to be a running theme today, no? Now, tell me, is there anything that you can think of that would put an immediate stop to this?”</p><p>Claude squirmed, not really trying to get away, just testing. He wouldn’t—or couldn’t—look Lorenz in the eye, preferring to stare at his lips. “Are you asking if I'm going to have hurt feelings after whatever happens here? If you're a little mean to me? Because the answer is no.”</p><p>“Claude. I’m asking if you have limits you would rather remain uncrossed.”</p><p>It was difficult to look nonchalant when spread out like a feast, erection evident from his tented pants, but Claude somehow managed it as he attempted to shrug. “…No. None that come to mind.”</p><p>Lorenz was positive the apathetic air was just that but he had to give Claude credit for his acting. “I’m going to hurt you tonight—“</p><p>“—Just. Just stop,” Claude hissed, trying against his grip harder as he arched his back. Lorenz pushed his wrists hard enough for the bones to nearly grind against the carpet. A gasp fell between them and he couldn’t tell whose it was. “We don’t need to talk about it. If I don’t like something, I’ll say it, okay? Just don’t make me think about it, if I think—“</p><p>He licked his lips and stilled under Lorenz, a forced stillness that he could tell was Claude fighting the urge to run, deciding if this was something he was able to do. This was something Claude had to give up for himself, something Lorenz refused to simply take without his permission. It was too fragile and too new for that.</p><p>“Kiss me, please, I <em>want</em> you, okay, I—“</p><p>Lorenz leaned down slightly and did as he was asked, forcing his way into Claude’s mouth much as he had on their first night together. He was less frantic but no less demanding as Claude hummed around his tongue.</p><p>His hand was starting to cramp from holding both Claude’s wrists in such an awkward way and he pulled back, rubbing the sides of the face in front of him when he pulled away just to keep the connection as long as possible.</p><p>He came back holding a scarf and rubbed Claude’s hands between his, digging his thumb in the strong palm. “I’m going to tie you now.”</p><p>After waiting for words that didn’t come, he slowly tied one wrist and then the other to the leg of the bed before trailing his lips over where Claude’s shoulder joint met his chest, laving it. “Does your arm hurt?”</p><p>Claude shook his head and yelped when fingers pinched his side. “What—“</p><p>“I’m going to need verbal answers. I will not always be able to see you nod or shake your head.” Lorenz pet the area he had abused with the backs of his knuckles. “You’re doing so well. Can you do that for me?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Lorenz watched his fingers walk over the skin of Claude’s chest, stopping to occasionally trace the edges of a scar, tips stumbling over a nipple. Claude turned his head, tendons in his neck rising with the movement, and exhaled shakily. He watched with a flare of fire in his gut as his fingers pinched and then twisted, holding the position as his other hand lightly traced its unabused twin, rolling it with his thumb. “Do you like that?”</p><p>Twisting under him, either to get more for the gentle side or get away from the pinched one, Claude hissed through grit teeth and glared sideways. “Not a favorite.”</p><p>"That's entirely too bad." Lorenz held the bud until he was sure it must be starting to go numb and then let go, Claude bucking at the rush of blood back to the appendage before he gasped and let his head fall back when Lorenz closed his mouth over it hotly to trace feather light patterns on the flesh there. The other side of his broad chest got the same treatment once the sensation turned to numbness and Claude was squirming restlessly on the rug after what seemed like eons of that mouth and those fingers before Lorenz dropped his weight on his hips to pin them.</p><p>“Oh, come <em>on</em>—“</p><p>“Hush,” he scolded, punctuating it with a bite on the flesh of his abs for good measure, feeling Claude force himself into that unnatural stillness again while he took quick, short inhales as he felt Lorenz settle between his legs. The room wasn’t cold but gooseflesh erupted on his legs when those thin-fingered hands pulled the fabric of his pants down slowly, dragging it along his oversensitive skin, the contrast as they pushed their way back up through the dark hair on his legs awe-inspiring. Claude couldn’t tear his eyes away until the lids slipped closed when fingers dug into his hips hard enough to leave marks.</p><p>“Choose a number between one and five for me, would you?”</p><p>Claude swallowed heavily, trying to get his brain to work as a fingernail skirted around the skin of his stomach just above the waist of his tented smallclothes. “Um, uh, f-four?”</p><p>“Four sounds wonderful,” Lorenz chirped and slid his thumb around the slick head, making Claude spasm and pull against the bindings. “So I shall endeavor to bring you off four times.”</p><p>He was sitting up before he could help it, arms harshly twisted across his torso and only allowing him a small angle like a half sit-up. “Wait, <em>what?</em> Do you—you <em>do</em> know how this works, right? It’s not—it-it-it’s-it’s not a—okay, I would really love to say that a refractory period isn’t a thing I have to worry about but what the fuck, Lorenz—“</p><p>He moaned halfway through and collapsed backward when Lorenz forced him to the back of his throat and held him there, swallowing brutally. Half out of instinct and half out of desperation to touch, he tried to reach for that soft hair but found himself stopped short by the scarf. Instead, he arched his back and groaned at the suction before it stopped.</p><p>Claude floundered when cold air rushed between them as Lorenz got to his feet slowly, the long purple hair dragging over the raw nerves of hip. He was reeling and he was sure his knees would give out (or would they already have?) had he not been lying against the plush rug on the floor. He opened his mouth to give the dark knight an earful but lay back and squirmed when Lorenz slid his boot between his legs and pressed up deliciously.</p><p>“While I would love to stay and tend to this,” friction as he ground his hips against that foot left him nearly too delirious to listen, “it seems I’m famished from repeated interrupted meals. I wonder how that came to be? Hmm. Now, if you would care to join me for dinner, I may be willing to lend you some aid.” A tap of that damn foot and he nearly bit his tongue off when his jaw clenched. “However, if that is not to your satisfaction, then I will have my fill and return henceforth and, hopefully, consumed adequate nourishment to provide me the energy to consume <em>you.</em>”</p><p>He yelped, twisting hard away from that foot just to stop the waves that jolted through him, hand clenching around the bindings when Lorenz laughed derisively and looked down at him. He tried to hold the man’s devouring gaze and couldn’t, embarrassment flushing hot and sharp even as his entire body throbbed, pathetic and leaning over the edge already. No, he couldn’t. Jerking against Lorenz’s boot like—he couldn’t actually think of any words to describe it. His other option was nearly equally unpleasant as he was likely to lay here and vibrate with need the entire time, body never giving him the chance to come down as he waited and <em>thought</em>. His best asset was his biggest weakness but at least he was alone here.</p><p>“I’ll—wait, I’ll wait.” It was a croak at best.</p><p>“Then I shall avoid anything spicy. Or would you prefer that? Do think upon it.”</p><p>Lorenz left laughing and Claude twitched just thinking about it.</p><p>It must have been more than thirty minutes but less than an hour, he thought to himself some time later, spit cooled and dried against his flagging half-hardness. He was cold without the warmth of the body on top of him, pressing him into the carpet hard enough to leave marks. Would he have carpet burn later? Between his shoulders, or on his forearms? He rubbed his back against the fibers to try it out, how it felt on his skin, give himself something to do. He specifically told Lorenz not to let him think and what does he do? Leaves him here.</p><p><em>Well,</em> <em>you did make it rather difficult for him to eat.</em></p><p>Claude gulped and imagined Lorenz with that hand on his foot, the ache and jolts of the twisting bones while he inched his toes closer up the inside of that thigh. Those eyes and the look there had caused his stomach to drop and brain to fog and if someone had told him this was something he would ever want, an arrow would bury itself in their kneecap.</p><p>He glanced up and spotted the blue scarf with red embroidered roses and snorted. Leave it to Lorenz to own something so gaudy but the material was surprisingly soft and strong, the fibers stretching as he pulled before the give stopped completely. If worst came to worst, he had enough slack to lift the bed frame and slide it out from around the leg and either jump out the window or shimmy the small ledge between their windows.</p><p>
  <em>So there’s that, I guess?</em>
</p><p>Rolling onto his stomach, he looked under the bed out of curiosity, finding nothing, not even a single dust bunny. He’d been thinking about grabbing a book to read.</p><p>The pull of the fibers along his abused chest made him grunt and thunk his head forward, gasping in a pained and bladed pleasure. He arched his back and ground his hips into the floor, rubbing his entire front against the carpet before forcing himself to still due to the ridiculousness of it. He wasn’t going to be seen like this but every breath betrayed him, pushing the skin into contact he wanted to fight against. Soon he was hard again and closer to the edge then he should be for not being touched.</p><p>Forcing himself to roll onto his side, he curled up and buried his panting in his bicep.          </p><p>“I see you did eagerly await my return,” Lorenz smirked and it was like something soothing and irritating all at once.</p><p>“You and your promises,” Claude mumbled under his breath, feigning stillness until Lorenz kneeled and pressed a finger into his bruised nipples and buried his nose in his pubic hair. He jerked onto his back and Lorenz was on him, picking up exactly where they had left off quickly enough for Claude’s head to spin.</p><p>He couldn’t move his hands but his legs came up to wrap around Lorenz’s shoulders and hold him there and the man hummed happily. Claude groaned and threw his head back as the man urged his hips up toward his face, taking whatever he was given.</p><p>A finger slowly breached him and that was it. He’d been on the edge too long, pushed up against it like a wall before being dropped again, and Lorenz took his wonderful mouth away and watched him tremble and shoot against his stomach as he came through grit teeth to keep quiet.</p><p>“That’s it, look at you,” Lorenz crowed proudly as he jerked him through the aftershocks, “you have done so well, so well for me, Claude. That’s it, spill for me, darling, I want to see you. You do so love my finger in you, don't you?”</p><p>The words made him shake and hide his face in his arm, eyes closed and refusing to look at Lorenz. It was something he couldn’t seem to get used to and focused on the sensations instead of the sounds. Lorenz gentled his strokes when the sensations became overwhelming and Claude started shying away but the hand on him didn’t quite stop.</p><p>“I did say four times, didn’t I? That was the number we decided on, was it not?”</p><p>Chatting like it was tea time, Lorenz probed his prostate steadily and Claude clutched the fabric around his hands for something to hang onto. "Lorenz, you can't really--ah--ex-expect--"</p><p>“I expect quite a lot, yes, and I expect you to be good after misbehaving all day. Now, tell me: how deep do you believe I can go? Do you suppose my hand will fit? It is rather slimmer than most males, don’t you suppose?”</p><p>“<em>Oh,</em> fuck,” Claude wailed quietly when he throbbed, pulling the fabric for something to pull, only succeeding in scooting himself up toward the leg of the bed, which was just as well as he smothered the unrestrained noise by biting the fabric between his wrists.</p><p>Lorenz was smirking crookedly now, nuzzling his inner thigh near the knee, head having not moved with Claude’s body. His hand was still buried, still probing, even as he pulled himself back up to nuzzle into the short hair at the base of his half-hardness.</p><p>“Goddess, don’t—d-don’t—“</p><p>“Don’t what, my sweet?” Lorenz dragged his tongue over just the base, shoving the tip into the spot just under the frenulum before mouthing aimlessly for quite some time. It seemed the words wouldn't quite find their way out, then. “Stop? Or don’t stop? You need to tell me with your words, Claude.”</p><p>Strong, thin fingers reached and pinched the tautening skin over his testicles and Claude jerked and stiffened and gasped, hot white catching in that purple hair while his toes curled and he sobbed out little wheezes and whines. Lorenz looked shocked for a second before smiling mockingly in a completely confident, controlled manner despite looking debauched and that was doing just as much for Claude as the tongue on him was.</p><p>“My, my, you are doing far better than I had anticipated, I must say. Can you even still speak?” Lorenz brought his hand down on the backside in front of him, leaving a hand mark. It was an odd angle and he didn’t expect Claude to jerk forward again, a few stray strings of liquid leaking from him while the muscles clenched around his finger but he was pleased nonetheless. “I asked you a question.”</p><p>Pants and whines forced their way unsteadily out of his mouth without his consent, body numb and tired but shooting slowly past over-stimulation and into pleasure again after what seemed like ages and ages of the tug of too much-not enough, pain yes no please, sparks making him jerk his hips whenever Lorenz scissored the gland inside him between two fingers and rubbed. Sweat made it hard for him to keep his eyes open as it threatened to drip into his eyes and sting, heart careening out of control behind his ribs and he was losing the ability to think, cock hardened again with what had to be the last of his blood and pressing wetly against Lorenz’s cheek.</p><p>“Lorenz, I—<em>can’t</em>—s-stop, I <em>can’t</em>--“</p><p>He wanted to come, was shaking on the precipice again, needy and trembling as his body begged for just a bit more to push him over and it was painfully not <em>enough</em>. It left him breathless and dizzy and he was quickly losing everything except his body and the pleasure-pain that bloomed from everywhere like poison and he didn't know this was something he needed so deep in his bones.  </p><p>“You know the words, dear.”</p><p>That clever tongue pushed against the head of his sore dick and he keened loudly, bed frame groaning as he pulled and stiffened and shook, shoulders popping as he curled forward and they threatened to dislocate, alternating between breathing like a herd of galloping horses and holding his breath. His third orgasm pulsed through him, cock red and shiny and painful and he sagged and tried to get away when Lorenz once more probed him with his tongue. “Nnngh, I—I j-just—<em>ah!</em>“</p><p>He would have come up on his toes if he was anywhere except lying on his side, fingers buried in his ass as they pressed relentlessly against his prostate. It was painful now but painful in the best way as he hovered over a yawning cliff. If Lorenz left him alone, he would be fine, he would ache and go to sleep, too tired to notice and too sore to continue, but the stimulation that made him almost bite through his lip was touching something raw in him, making him throb as he hurtled closer and faster toward the edge when his frayed and damaged nerves were worked.         </p><p>“I want to see you when you shoot dry,” Lorenz trilled in the sweetest way like honey wine, “you’re doing so fantastic. You’ve done so well, my lovely. You’re breathtaking, you’re almost there, show me everything—“</p><p>The words were by his ear now as the other man slithered up to press against him from behind, hardness grinding into the space between his legs, a hand stroking over the line of his throat like water to a burn. “Plea-<em>please fuck</em> <em>me</em>, <em>please</em>, I want to feel you in me, I <em>need</em>—“</p><p>Lorenz drove hard and fast into him in a way that made stars explode behind his eyes and he bowed forward, trying to get a better angle until a hand reached around and he cried out silently with his fourth orgasm, breaking apart as he sobbed in breaths and curled his toes and his hands were numb from clutching at and pulling on the fabric and twitched and trembled and shook like a leaf for what felt like hours until he collapsed in a sweaty, boneless heap. He winced whenever Lorenz drove into his overused body and grit his teeth when he came inside him before pulling out and undoing the scarf.</p><p>The massage on his hands and wrists was nice, warm fingers traveling over his cooling skin, and he would be embarrassed if his brain worked and even more so when Lorenz picked him up like he weighed nothing and lay him on the bed. He allowed himself to be kissed gently, hands massaging his scalp until they finally disappeared with the warmth attached to them.</p><p>Opening his mouth to speak did nothing so he just lay there for quite awhile until the blood flow had come back into his hands and Lorenz was cleaning his skin with a soft, cool, damp cloth, the bites and scratches and bruises throbbing pleasantly. “…Were you going to, ah…to choke me at the end?”</p><p>The quelling of movement gave him his answer but he said nothing and allowed Lorenz his time to find the words. “I was considering it but, ultimately, you would have had no way to signal distress if I took both your hands and your voice. Is it something you wish me to refrain from in the future?”</p><p><em>In the future.</em> He wished he had the brainpower to give that statement the attention it deserved. “Dunno. Don’t think so. I’ll try anything twice.”</p><p>“Whyever twice?”</p><p>“Maybe the first time was bad luck. Like the first time I approached a wyvern back home,” he said, gulping at the glass of water held out to him to quell the ache in his throat, “I didn’t realize how territorial they are with humans. I approached it head-on while I walked with its rider during a conversation with him and it snapped at me. Nader grabbed me just in time and was livid the guy had let me do that, but like I said, bad luck is all.”</p><p>“That is unfortunate,” Lorenz commented before gently wiping at his thighs with the cloth. Claude let him until he got too close to his groin and he shied away mightily.</p><p>"Field rations."</p><p>Lorenz nodded and brushed a stray hair from his forehead. “Apologies. That was not my intent.”</p><p>“I don’t know how I’m going to wear pants tomorrow,” he whined throatily, “or walk. You had better take responsibility for what you’ve done.”</p><p>Lorenz hovered close to his face and smiled, genuine and bright in a way that made Claude’s heart skip a beat before he kissed him.</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>"And next time it better be on a fucking bed or so help me." Claude turned his head and glared at the wall. "And tell Manuela I need some more vulneraries. For my <em>shoulder</em>."</p><p>"Yes, Your Highness."</p>
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